Grim Fate
by Dark Lady of Slytherin
Summary: Aurors Alice Longbottom and Albus Potter are faced with the daunting task of protecting the Wizarding world from a killer who taunts his adversaries with messages written in his victims' blood.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Grim Fate  
>Rating: Mature<br>Era: Next Gen  
>Genre: mystery, horrordark  
>Warnings: violence, language<br>Characters: Fred Weasley II, Alice Longbottom II  
>Length: WiP<br>Summary: "Death is the consequence of life."

The killer leaves his message behind at crime scenes taunting Aurors and the Daily Prophet alike.

Chapter One:

The rain pounded the pavement as Alice ran for cover under the awning of a nearby sweets shop. She cursed the blasted weather for ruining her morning jog. It had been a glorious early morning when she left her flat twenty-five minutes earlier. The sun had been rising above the towering buildings of London, (the slightest sign of an impending storm but nothing worth worrying about. The weather had instantly changed midway through her run, soaking her to the bone as she ran.

Running cleared her mind of the troubles of work: petty cases built up on her desk while lesser wizards were given the high-profile assignments. She tried hard to keep her disappointment from showing through. Who was she to say she deserved the promotion over someone else? She would prove her worth sooner or later, and then her bosses would have no excuse to deny her the promotion.

Checking her watch, Alice groaned and began her run home before she was late for work. It would do her no good to be late when she was desperately trying to earn the promotion that everyone had been talking about for days. Alice wasn't one to go on rumour alone, nor was she the type of person to do whatever it took to get a raise. If the work was done inadequately, she would not be happy with it; if she arrested the wrong person, she would be disappointed in herself.

As she ran, the wind and rain bit into her skin until she felt nothing but the pavement beneath her feet. Alice had always enjoyed the rain, the gentle melodic sound of water flowing haphazardly towards the earth. She admitted to herself that running through a storm was neither enjoyable nor relaxing. Stress found its way into her shoulders and neck as she passed the many shops she often frequented. If she was lucky, she might have enough time to stop for a spot of coffee before work.

It took her another twenty minutes to reach her flat as the rain pelted the windows of the building in front of her. Once inside, she shook off the excess water before taking the lift to the third floor. While she had wanted a place on one of the top floors, she wasn't going to give up her chance to live in a building that employed a doorman, and had a secure entry. She felt safe in her building and that was all that mattered.

By the time she arrived in her flat, she found her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ had been delivered along with a letter from her mum. Ignoring both, she walked through the cluttered apartment for the bathroom with the intention of a shower before work. She could read her mother's letter at work before their daily meeting if she wasn't late.

Stripping out of her soaked workout clothes, Alice turned on the faucets and stepped inside the hot water as the bathroom filled with steam. She stood there a moment, letting the hot water ease away the tension that had seeped into her shoulders. It would do her no good to be stressed when she went into work, if anything it would make her day go by slower. It was why she made sure to run every morning, it helped relax her.

After her quick shower, she disappeared into her bedroom to change, ignoring the pile of laundry and the clutter of parchment that was scattered across the floor. Her flat was a disaster, and if she had time she would actually clean it, but she wasn't a tidy person to begin with. She rather liked the lived-in look, much to her mother's dislike. Of course, she would never let her mother loose on the mess, or else she'd never find anything ever again.

Rushing out of her room dressed and prepared for work, Alice grabbed the letter from her mother off the table and promised that when she got home she'd do the dishes that had piled up in the sink. Stuffing the letter into her pocket, she Flooed to the Ministry of Magic and was lost into the crowd of workers all heading towards their respective offices.

As Alice waited impatiently for the lift, her partner and long-time friend, Albus, appeared suddenly at her side.

"Morning, Albus," Alice said as they entered the lift together.

"Thought you were gonna be late again," Albus laughed, and put his arm around her shoulder. "Dad bet me five galleons you'd be late today. I bet you'd be on time."

"I never pictured your dad as a betting man. I'm glad you won at least. You're five galleons richer."

"Did you hear the rumour?"

"What rumour?"

"That Ambrosia Zabini was promoted." ((I really like that name! From A to Z))

"I'm not surprised, Albus. She's an amazing journalist, and it does help that she's married to Cole. I swear he leaks more information to the _Prophet_ than any other Auror. How he keeps his job is beyond me."

"You know that no one really believes there is a leak in the department," Albus said, implying that she was out of her mind.

"Except for the fact that there is absolutely no way that Ambrosia would have the information she does any other way. He's a leak, and one day your dad will see it and fire him. He's making us all look bad, Al."

The lift stopped on their floor and they exited together. Harry stood at the doorway to their office, checking his watch as they approached. Alice shook her head and slipped in beside him, ignoring the soft clink of five galleons being dropped into Albus's hand. While Alice admired Harry for what he had done well before she was born, she had to admit that he was a pretty decent boss. If she had to choose anyone to work for, Harry Potter was the one person she'd pick. While he may not have been the man that would earn her, her promotion, he had always guided her and his son in the right direction, offering advice when needed.

The annoying hum of the generator behind his building only served to irritate Fred all the more. In front of him sat his recent assignment for the _Daily Prophet_. Covering Politics was not nearly as exciting as some of the other jobs he could have applied for. Of all the classes he excelled at in school, he never once thought he would be sitting behind a desk writing.

Sighing in annoyance, Fred slammed his quill down on his table, rolled up his parchment, and stuffed it precariously into the inside pocket of his robes. If the generator wasn't the worst of the noise, he could have easily finished his article, but he had to contend with the couple above him having another argument.

Slamming the front door, Fred stormed out of his flat and made his way to the lift all the while trying to ignore the first signs of a headache. He should have listened to his dad and gone into Quidditch: at least then the noise would have been from screaming fans instead of screaming neighbours.

Once in the quiet of the lift, he counted off the reasons why he was still living in the blasted flat where night after night, he had to listen to one fight after another: a constant reminder that he was not going to use his parents' money to find a better flat. If he could just get a better paying position at the _Prophet_, then he would be set. He could move out, he wouldn't be a disappointment to his mum and dad, and Roxanne would stop pestering him about his wasted talents.

Out of the busy street, Fred took notice of the rain for the first time and cursed his bad timing. Had he left earlier he would have avoided the downpour. No matter how bad the weather was, he wasn't Apparating for a ten minute walk.

By the time he reached work, he was soaked through and in a far worse mood than when he left his flat. Bad moods were unusual for Fred he was always in good spirits, enjoying a good laugh with his fellow reporters. On rare occasions, he could be found locked away in his flat and writing articles, rather than joining the rest of the staff in the office. He hardly ever complained about anything, but there was only so much one bloke could take before everything spiralled out of control. Fred Weasley was reaching that point as he shuffled through the office, heading for his desk to finish his article.

"Why didn't you use a Water Repelling Charm, Freddie?" his cousin Dominique asked when she saw his state of disarray.

"Didn't feel like it," he snapped and pulled out his article.

"Bad mood?" she asked.

"You've no idea, Dom."

"How long they keep you up this time?"

"Quarter to four this morning, then they were at it again just before I left. I swear they fight more than any other couple I know. I can't fathom why they are together."

"And I can't fathom why you still live there. You know I have an extra room."

"I don't know, Dom. That's like admitting defeat. I'd never hear the end of it from Roxanne."

"Just a few days then? You look like death warmed over," Dominique asked, not giving Fred much choice.

"Alright, a few days then I'll go back to my place. Just... don't tell Roxanne?"

"Your secret is safe with me."

Dominique disappeared behind the glass doors a minute later to talk to their editor about her upcoming article. It didn't surprise Fred that she had become a reporter. She was brilliant with words, and her articles often made the front page, while his were lost somewhere in the back. No one really cared what was going on inside the Ministry unless it was really important and if it was that important Dominique covered it.

Fred set to work feverishly, writing out his article, in hopes of making it into the evening edition. He had promised it would be finished by that morning and he was nowhere near done. There was no way that he was going to disappoint his editor by putting the article off another day. _If only Politics was more interesting_, Fred mused as he quickly threw his ideas onto the parchment.

"Weasley, you finished with that article?" Tessa Maloney asked appearing behind him.

"Not yet, but it'll be ready soon. I just have a few more lines to write, and then it's all yours," Fred insisted, ignoring the looming shadow of his boss.

It took him nearly an hour to complete the few lines he had left of his article, but when it was done, he was satisfied that it was worthy of being printed. After reading it over several times and correcting any glaring errors, he finally approved of it. Placing the parchment on Maloney's desk, Fred returned to his and looked at the dozen other files sitting there waiting for his attention. If only Tessa would give him something else to work on. Everyone else was so busy with their own important and interesting assignments which always left him covering the boring stuff that only his Uncle Percy ever read and commented on. What he needed was something new and exciting, something that would put his name on the front page. If only he knew the right person to ask.


	2. Chapter 2

The rain beat the grass down as pools of water formed in small unseen indents in the ground, drenching the two aurors as soon as they stepped into the yard. Beyond a wrought iron gate, sat a quaint cottage with a neatly sloping roof, long dead flowers wilted and crumbled in the forceful rain, drapes were pulled closed tightly behind large glass windows, leaving the pair to wonder why they had been called out in the first place. Nothing seemed amiss about the house, there were no strange noises, no strange lights like the report had mentioned.

Sighing, Alice pushed on the gate to see if it would open. With a groan the metal slowly moved allowing her and Albus entrance to the yard beyond. Neither said anything as they made their way to the door, wands at the ready in case there was danger. Though she doubted they would find anything of interest within the confines of the gated home.

"I think this is another one of those tests your dad keeps giving us," Alice said softly as they knocked on the front door.

"You think?" Albus groaned and listened intently for any sound within the cottage. "If he keeps setting us up like this..."

"Shh, did you hear that?" Alice nodded her head to the left window. "There's someone inside."

"It's probably dad," he answered, but decided to check it out all the same. "_Alohomora_!"

The lock clicked and the door slowly opened granting the two aurors access to the cottage. A musty musky smell hit them first, as if the windows had been sealed to keep fresh air out. Thick dust coated the floor and furniture as they stopped in the doorway. There were footprints with a fresh layer of dust. Alice let Albus take the lead, he was the strong spell caster and he was one year her senior. Allowing him to take all the risk wasn't how she saw things, it was a matter of trust, and Albus trusted her to watch his back.

The floor creaked as they slowly made their way to the doorway to their left which lead into a small dining room. A small oak table sat in the middle of the room with six place settings, but there was no evidence of it having ever been used. Albus signalled for her to take the doorway that lead into the kitchen while he searched the living room.

Nodding, Alice made her way across the dining room. A tiny mouse scooted past her as she narrowly missed crushing it. Once in the kitchen she found more dust covering the appliances. Rather than dare open the refridgerator, she continued to do a quick sweep of the room. There were more than enough places for a culprit to hide. Checking behind the small island counters in the center of the room, and under the table, Alice felt she was alone in the room. She didn't stop her search however. She flung open the pantry door to ensure no one was hiding within.

When she was finally satisfied that the kitchen was empty, she followed her footprints back into the hallway and towards Albus. He would have called to her had he found anything. Instead she found him standing between the support beams of the door blocking her from entering.

"You do not want to go in there," he said and she realized his voice was an octave higher than it normally was.

"I can't do my job if you're protecting me from seeing something bothersome," Alice retorted and pushed passed him.

Instantly the colour in her face drained as she scanned the room. A large glowing violet pentagram surrounded candles and skulls within. It was the body in the center of the room that made Alice's stomach roll and tighten. Long brown hair was matted with speckles of blood and flowed over the obsidian alter the corpse laid on. Blood pooled around the woman's body from various slash marks that looked as though they were methodically placed.

"I know her," Alice said softly and turned away, "Cassandra Thomas, I went to Hogwarts with her."

"I warned you not to go in," Albus said placing a hand on her shoulder. "I've sent word to dad, he'll be here shortly."

"I really wish this was a practical joke, that she'd wake up. Cassie was a good friend. She helped me through so much in school."

Closing her eyes, Alice forced back tears that began to burn her eyes. There was absolutely no room for her to become emotional. Cassandra had been her friend and she was going to find justice for her, no matter what it took. Steeling her nerves, she turned back towards the room and began a preliminary walkthrough. Ignoring Albus's concerned looks; she kneeled just outside the pentagram and looked for some sign or clue that would help them.

Although the blood had pooled around the base of the alter, Alice realized it was dry. The musk they had smelled when they first entered the house, she found, was from one of the candles. Placing her finger on the wicks of each, Alice learned they were cold. Had the killer been startled from cleaning up, or was this some part of his plan? Each of the ritualistic items were easily bought in Diagon Alley or muggle London. Any Wiccan shop would carry the supplies that the killer had used, but this was no usual murder. The victim was her friend, a witch, who would have been able to defend herself against an attacker.

"Do you see her wand?" Alice questioned and took another cursory look around the room.

"No," Albus replied, "it could be in the bedroom upstairs."

"No it wouldn't be; Cassandra always had it on her. She was paranoid, Albus. She became a recluse after..." Alice stopped when she caught the sight of a shadow in the hallway. Drawing her wand, she pointed it at the door and waited.

"Albus, Alice?" Harry called before he entered and found the couple.

"Mr. Potter," Alice said and lowered her wand.

She watched him as he surveyed the scene, she could almost picture the cogs within his brain turning as he took in the way the room looked, smelled and sounded. At first she wondered if he was going to kick them off the case, they had never had the chance to work an actual crime scene. They had been trained for it, they knew what to look for to solve crimes as dastardly as the one they now faced, but they had always been given the least important cases.

"You were right to send me a message. Ron's on his way with extra help."

"We want this case, Dad," Albus said, his voice hard and emotionless. "It's ours to begin with. We deserve the chance to prove we can handle this sort of crime."

Alice said nothing rather than get in the middle of an argument she was sure would arise. Albus had been pushing Harry for months about the petty crimes they were stuck handling. More often than not her partner accused his father of trying too hard to protect them from the monsters of the Wizarding world. There was no denying now that the monsters had found them when they were sent out to check on a small noise disturbance.

Silently she walked around the room for the third time, trying to figure out what she was missing. The murder weapon lay neatly in Cassandra's open hand. There was definitely something odd about the scene that Alice knew there was a lot they were going to learn from it.

"Why does it look like this?" She mused, and turned to look at Harry and Albus who had stopped arguing for the moment. "What?"

"You have this look on your face, like you know something we don't," Albus said and walked over to her. "What are you thinking?"

"That I don't know a single witch or wizard who would go to this much trouble to kill someone. That I've never read about a single ritualistic killing that looks like this. It's almost like the killer was trying to summon something or someone to the pentagram," Alice explained, but she had no evidence to back up her theory.

"You think its coincidence that the victim happens to be a witch?" Harry said.

"It's possible, but I don't believe in coincidence, Mr Potter," Alice replied.

Fred was sitting at his desk with Dominique sitting in front of it, neither of them saying anything as they worked tirelessly on their new articles. It hadn't surprised Fred when Dominique had been given yet another hefty and exciting article that had her spending most of her day out of the office, while he had to write another story on how the current Minister of Magic had been seen wandering aimlessly around downtown London with a pretty little blond on his arm and looking quite dishevelled.

Slowly his quill worked its way down the parchment until he was satisfied that he had completely ruined the Minister's chances of re-election, which would likely lead to Fred's dismissal from the Prophet. Though Dominique would tell him he had done an excellent job telling the truth, he knew upon his second draft that he had better paint the Minister in a better fashion than a no good philanderer if he wanted to keep his job.

Passing his parchment over to Dominique, he waited to hear her input on his article. She may not have been his boss or their editor, but her opinion mattered to him. He knew, above all else, Dominique would tell him the truth about his article. If it was rubbish he would know because she had a weird way of wrinkling her face when his sentences made no sense or he was too obscure. Of course, he had never expected her to laugh out right when she read through this particular article. He hadn't added anything humorous into it. He reported the truth, regardless of how much trouble he was going to get into.

"Freddie, you're going to get fired with this piece," she said softly and scribbled notes onto the margin of his article. "If you fix these lines, make the Minister of Magic look like a good guy, maybe you'll keep your job. We aren't the Quibbler. We're not a tabloid."

"I'm only reporting the truth Dom," Fred defended his piece.

"I get that, really I do. But if you want to play in the big league with me, then you need to keep the Minister of Magic on your side, at least until Uncle Percy runs next term."

"He's been running for the last four years, Dominique, I don't think Uncle Percy is going to actually win this year. Not unless something big happens."

"You never know," Dominique shrugged. "I have a date to get ready for, I'll see you tomorrow to read over your second draft."

"Have fun tonight," Fred said and set to work editing his article.

He knew Dominique was right. He had known she would critique his article and he was grateful for it, but the truth was he hated his job. How was he supposed to be unbiased about a topic he hated more than hinkypunks? If his Uncle would only win the elections then he knew he might actually see a promotion. Ever since Percy Weasley had declared himself the new up and coming Minister of Magic four years ago and began his campaign, Fred had been seen as a lesser reporter. So long as the current Minister of Magic hated the Weasley family, he knew he'd be stuck on the dead end position forever.

"Weasley," his editor, Tessa Maloney said walking up behind him. "Where'd Dominique disappear to?"

"You just missed her, she left for the night," Fred explained and waited for his editor to leave.

"I need someone to cover this, when it breaks I want us to be the one covering it, not the Quibbler," she said coldly.

"I'll do it," Fred said, hopeful that she might actually give him a chance, though in the pit of his stomach he doubted she would.

"You have absolutely no experience with high profile cases, Weasley. I need Dominique on this one."

"How about Dom and I work on it together? That way, I can get all the prelim information and it'll give me some experience. Between the two of us I'm sure we can come up with an amazing article."

"Fine, but don't expect me to show you any leniency. Dominique knows what to expect with this sort of -" She trailed off as if by some means she was giving him too much of a chance. "Just get Dominique and the two of you are to head to the address on the parchment. If Dominique isn't with you consider yourself out of a job."

Nodding, Fred pushed out of his chair so fast it toppled to the floor with a heavy thud. Ignoring the scowl Maloney had on her face, he dashed out of the office heading for the fireplaces to Floo to Dominique's place. She was not going to be happy that he was going to ruin her date, but there was nothing he could do. It was the first chance he had ever been given to show himself as a true reporter, and he was not going to screw it up. Dominique would have dropped everything in the first place, he knew, had she been there when Maloney needed her.

When he appeared in the living room of Dom's flat, he looked around hoping to find her. At first he saw thought she wasn't home, but when he heard the running water of a shower he knew she was getting ready. Sighing, he walked over to the bathroom door and pounded on it.

"Dominique!" he called through the wooden door. "Dom we need to talk."

"Damn it Fred!" she cursed and turned off the water.

He could hear her wrapping a towel around her body moments before the door flung open. Her face was red from the heat of the water, her blond hair fell like wet string resting on her shoulders, but it was her eyes that made him wince. Her blue eyes were furious that he had the gull to come to her flat and ruin her evening.

"I'm sorry," he said, almost childlike. "Maloney swears if I want to keep my job I have to get you to come with me."

She held her hand out expectantly waiting for him to put the parchment he clutched in hers. Slowly and reluctantly he did. He watched her carefully as she read over the job they had to complete together. A smile curled over her lips and he knew she had given in. Her date would be cancelled and they would head to the address of Cassandra Thomas where Aurors were investigating a possible homicide.

"Good work, Freddie. We'll get you promoted yet," She said and walked off to get dressed. "Give me five minutes to cancel my date and get ready. This is going to be amazing!"


End file.
